


Finding You Closure

by Dispatchfromhighbury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff and Angst, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 22:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30012099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dispatchfromhighbury/pseuds/Dispatchfromhighbury
Summary: They've survived the war but lost each other. One year on and a chance meeting brings up the past and everything buried with it.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Finding You Closure

**Author's Note:**

> What started out as just jotting down a rough idea turned into months of writing. Evermore by Taylor Swift instigated this. It's been a pleasure and I hope you enjoy it, too.

The Three Broomsticks is heaving, which Lily should have expected but didn’t. The etched glass windows are fogged and there is a puddle of water on the floorboards in the entry from the melted snow. She adds to the dirty water as she walks into the pub stamping her boots. Zigzagging through the crowd of happiness and cheer, Lily closes ground between her and the glass of pinot noir she’s been thinking about all day. In a gap she sees an empty stool and claims it. The middle-aged bartender is busy entertaining an older couple, so she begins to unwrap her scarf and shrug off her coat. Her neck and shoulders instantly relieved. With no grace, she shoves everything into her tote bag before taking her seat. The two men on either side of her hardly move to make space but they turn enough to give her a nod as she makes herself comfortable.

Ignoring them, she reaches for a liquid stained wine menu and her eyes glaze over the limited options while she waits. She doesn’t have a problem but she also doesn’t have a problem knowing which red she wants tonight. Folding the menu up and sliding it away under her finger, Lily sees him. Her stomach drops uncomfortably. The knowing smile on his face gives away that he has been watching her since she walked in. She smiles back politely and waves as her mind conjures a thousand thoughts that all blur into each other. Lily’s mother taught her manners and the man with the Cheshire cat smile taught her to ‘just get on with it’. Mind you, he didn’t have a Cheshire cat smile at the time of that lesson. There’s no escaping him now so Lily takes a deep breath, picks up her stuffed bag and makes her way over to the other spare seat in the pub.

The one next to James Potter.

Her heartbeat doesn’t steady as she pushes through the crowd, and her guilt, to get to him. They haven’t seen each other in just over a year but that’s not to say that he didn’t cross her mind. He certainly did and she had always wondered when this moment would arrive. Some days she would pray to cross his path at the Ministry. Other days the dread of that very possibility consumed her. Either way, she had always imagined that she would somehow feel his presence or just know that he was nearby when the moment came. Of course, that hasn’t proven to be the case and she’s unsure why she ever thought it would be.

“Hi,” Lily huffs and James stands to take her bag and hook it under the bar as she had previously done.

“Hi,” he replies once facing her again. There’s a moment of hesitation but they hug. It’s polite until they both linger beyond the adequate time that constitutes a simple hello. She shuffles closer, pressing her cheek against his chest and he spreads his hands wider across her back. The warm, wood and leather, addictive scent of him surrounds her but she is brought back to reality when glass clinks behind the bar. In the same moment, she notices a girl a few years younger than her staring curiously. Instantly, Lily steps back, suddenly insecure and feeling seventeen again. A far cry from twenty-five. 

“I didn’t expect to see anyone I know around here,” says Lily. She pushes her long hair back before taking a seat and waves down the bartender. That red is now a necessity.

“I was visiting Dumbledore earlier and just thought I’d stop by before going home,” James explains and Lily feels him watch her place her drink order. “Have I caught you out?” he asks. “Is this your sneaky hideaway spot?” A grin begins to grow on his lips but he hasn’t discovered anything.

Lily throws him a look. “Please, I was just feeling nostalgic. I haven’t been here since school.” The Three Broomsticks wouldn’t even feature on her top ten places for a decent drink. She’s sure it wouldn’t be on James’s either but here they are. “Are you still living with Sirius?” she asks the first noncontroversial question that comes to mind.

“Not anymore,” James answers her, his light-heartedness disappearing. “I’ve moved since we last saw each other at the funeral.”

Lily’s heart freefalls and she takes a large sip of her wine. She doesn’t look at James but she can feel in the air between them that he knows his mistake. Fuck him for bringing that up this fast. For not thinking before he spoke. He’s still speaking, actually, but she’s not hearing a word. In her mind, she’s seeing the note, smelling the earl grey, hearing the procession and feeling the shock. The one-year anniversary not too long ago reopened the wound and now James adds the salt. A hot anger rises within her and she looks towards the front doors. She could leave now and not deal with this. His hand lands on her shoulder and she flinches.

“Lily,” he says her name for the first time that night and it’s an onslaught. It’s in the same sympathetic tone as the last time and she hates it. “I’m sorry,” James apologises and she finally meets his eyes to see that he is truly sorry. “You must miss her every day.”

“She was my best friend,” Lily reasons, though she shouldn’t have to.

“I know,” he assures her then raises his glass and nods towards Lily’s. Confused, she slowly follows suit and raises her own. “To Marlene,” James toasts with a determination Lily didn’t feel was necessary but she taps her glass against his all the same.

It’s jarring to hear someone else say her name. Lily says it most days in her mind, when the grief she carries around in her pocket makes itself known. The violence and tragedy of war are neatly folded and packed away but not Marlene’s death. How could she forget that? How could she get over that? The ring stains on the bar grab her attention before a bitter laugh escapes her.

“This is the part where people wouldn’t know what to say and I used to leave, to be honest.”

“And go home?”

“Maybe,” she admits, “but I finish my wine first at least.” 

“I noticed the red. A true adult now,” James taunts lightly.

Lily shrugs. “Sad people don’t drink Chablis.”

“Understood,” James says, narrowing his eyes as he studies her. She wonders if he is displeased. “Well,” he recovers, “can I convince you and your pinot to stay?”

A bitter chill sweeps through the doors, just making it to the back of Lily’s neck, as group of people walk in with a flurry of snow. She watches them make their way to a couple sitting in a booth and they exchange hugs with wide smiles. It wasn’t like this a year ago. No one trusted the person next to them. No one hugged and no one smiled. Even the amount of people in this one space still makes her uncomfortable.

“Or are you going to leave again?” James asks without hearing an answer. Was there a hint of spite in his voice or is she imagining it? Lily returns her attention to him and he is looking anything but spiteful. But, God, there is so much between them maybe he should be. 

“Is anyone going to meet you here?” If she does stay, she wants him to herself.

“It’s just me,” James confirms softly, seeming to know that was the right answer.

“Is it always just you?” Lily probes curiously.

“Sometimes Sirius and Remus are around,” James answers swiftly. 

“I meant –”

“I know what you meant,” James cuts her off and doesn’t provide any further clarification. Instead, he finishes what she suspects to be a whisky. “So,” he says as he signals the bartender, “staying?”

“Haven’t made my mind up just yet,” Lily replies sceptically. James lets out a dubious laugh and she sneaks a side glance to the girl who was watching them earlier. She’s looking at James again and Lily raises her eyebrows to show annoyance. The girl rolls her eyes and turns away. Lily instantly feels childish and is thankful James was preoccupied ordering more wine. The bottle arrives quicker than when she first ordered and James tops up her glass before pouring his own.

“You shouldn’t mix, you know,” she chides.

“Shouldn’t mix, shouldn’t be here, all the same.” James shrugs before trying his new drink. Lily pockets his reply for later and waits for his reaction to the wine. “This . . . this is a sad wine,” he concludes with a pout.

“I never said it was good. I wouldn’t lie to you,” Lily says and she doesn’t miss the doubt that briefly but so clearly crosses James’s face. She’s thankful he lets it go.

With his elbow on the bar and chin resting in his hand, he watches her again and she lets him as a long silence falls between them. The level of wine in their glasses becomes a competition, each one keeping up with the other. Of all the different scenarios she had imagined of running into James again, this was never one of them. She’s relieved that this is it, though. Relieved that it is just them and not in a crowd of friends.

“I have so many questions for you.” James’s serious tone triggers a wave of dread through Lily’s body. 

“Then ask.” She tries to play it cool but finishes her glass to drown the nerves.

“I don’t know if I should start from the start or at the end and work backwards.” James puts into words something that Lily has felt since seeing him. The montage of memories she’s been playing in her mind has no rhyme or reason either. Nothing is chronological, it’s just a mess. Sometimes beautiful and sometimes devastating.

“Then maybe we just chat about life right now. Nothing heavy,” Lily suggests in hope that he agrees. She can’t do heavy, not in this pub full of people laughing and carrying on.

“Still in London?” James doesn’t miss a beat. He also doesn’t miss a beat in topping up their glasses generously.

“Yes, renting in Islington to be more precise.”

“Hm, too busy,” James says disapprovingly.

“I like it.” Lily shrugs unfazed and welcomes her third glass. “Why shouldn’t you be here?”

James’s forehead creases with confusion and Lily can’t quite work out the offence in her question. “I have a big day tomorrow,” he answers, as if the strange moment that just passed never happened.

Lily hates the vagueness but lets him have it. She’ll try again after this glass. They go back and forth on lighter topics while slowly the tide changes around them and more patrons leave than enter the pub.

“Why did you keep looking over at that woman?” James asks, motioning his head towards where the girl who Lily kept checks on all night sat.

“Who?” Lily feels the heat rise up her neck.

“The one that kept looking at me,” James clarifies, already satisfied.

“Hardly a woman,” Lily snorts but rolls her eyes at James’s pointed look and gives up the act. “Because she was practically stalking you,” she states as if it were obvious.

“I know that. What I’m asking is why are you concerned?” He pushes his empty wine glass away.

“I thought it was suspicious,” Lily justifies herself and avoids James’s eye contact.

“Hardly,” he shakes his head. “She was sitting up here and I asked her to leave when I saw you walk in.”

Lily’s eyes narrow, she isn’t sure how to reply to that one. She finishes her glass and pushes it away next to his. “What did you think when you saw me walk in?”

“Honestly?” James asks and stands up.

“Preferably.”

He takes a pause before answering and stares over Lily’s shoulder towards the front door, as if remembering the moment. “Honestly, I thought, thank God.”

“What, thank God you didn’t have to speak to that girl anymore?”

“No,” James replies and picks up Lily’s bag. Before he hands it over he leans down slightly so they’re at eye level. “As in, thank God you're okay.”

 _I’m sorry_ , is what she thinks but does not say.

“Closing time, Potter,” the bartender interrupts the moment unapologetically.

James doesn’t grin to break the seriousness which Lily expected. Instead, he passes her bag to her and pulls on his coat. She watches him thank the bartender and wrap his scarf around his neck. There is something bizarre about the mundane nature of it all. Somehow, in her thoughts, James’s life had paused once he was out of hers. It is strange to think now how he kept living all the same and kept doing everyday things, just as she has been. Her mind continues to process this as she prepares herself for the bitter cold outside. Around her, the chairs are already placed on the tables around them and curtains are drawn over the windows. Her boots thud loudly on the floor as she follows James towards the front doors of the quiet pub.

He holds the door open for her and she pauses in front of him. Absentmindedly, Lily lifts her hand to fix the collar of his coat. She folds the lapel back and freezes with her fingers still caressing the navy fabric. James is standing completely still, looking down at her with an emotion that Lily can’t read in the panic of her own. She snatches her hand away, drops her head and continues outside with her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Taking a few extra steps out into the street, she musters the courage to turn and face him, the snow crunching beneath her feet as she does. She notices that he keeps his distance with his hands tucked in his pockets.

“This was nice,” Lily is careful with her words. With the wine betraying her once, she can’t afford the embarrassment of another slip. She tightly crosses her arms against the cold and to stop herself from doing anything stupid.

“It was,” James agrees and Lily notices his torn expression. He goes to say something but closes his mouth. Leaving her to wonder what it could have been. “I should go home,” he says instead. 

“Right, yes, shouldn’t even be here.” Lily tries to pry one last time.

“Exactly, but I’m glad I was.” James smiles at her and takes a step closer. “Don’t be a stranger again, write to me.”

“Why don’t you write to me?” She finds herself trying to prolong his departure. Time is slipping away.

“Historically, my letters to you go unanswered,” James accuses and it’s true but she won’t be made to feel guilty.

“You sent two.”

“The war,” James shrugs.

“The war,” Lily repeats back, accepting the excuse because it’s hers, too.

She can feel the cold seeping up through her boots but she just can’t pull herself away. James appears to be in the same mind. They’re the only two people on the dimly lit street within the charming snow globe of Hogsmeade. Both caught between leaving and staying. To leave means it’s over but they can’t stay here in this street either. Lily’s inner voice is begging for her to say the simple words _I missed you_ , but they’re caught in her throat. Her body involuntary shudders and it’s visible enough for James to notice. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a stifled laugh.

“What are we doing?” he asks, more to himself than her. “You should get out of this cold and I have to go. Get home safely, Lily.” He demonstrates stronger willpower by turning and leaving her.

Lily slams the front door of her flat behind her and throws her bag on the kitchen floor with force.

“Did you do that on purpose?” she asks. “Did you set that up? Was that _funny_?” Lily smirks and shakes her head. “It wasn’t funny, it was just sad. He’ll go back now and tell everyone what an idiot I am.” She pulls off her boots and steps over the pile of Daily _Prophets_ and flyers on the floor under the open sash window. Retrieving her last surviving hair tie from her bag, she makes her way to the bathroom and throws the damp auburn mess up into a bun. Once her hair is off her flushed face she stares at the green eyes in the mirror. “That wasn’t funny, Marlene.”

Retracing her steps back to the kitchen, which serves more as a conservatory, Lily looks down at the hodgepodge of papers. With a huff, she gathers them up and makes a mental note to cancel her subscriptions. A rolled-up _Prophet_ escapes the pile and lands with a thud on the hardwood floor. _Why,_ Lily runs a hand down her face and retrieves the last paper. The title grabs her attention so she unrolls it and smiles in spite:

_Death Eater Hearings_

Lily opens up to page two to see the list of names. Many are unsurprising and some she had hoped were already dead. In an instant, she grips the paper as if it would help steady her. She stares blankly out the window into the darkness of the communal garden. The icy breeze, which she hadn’t noticed before, flows in and around her. It sends a shiver down her spine as she scrambles to connect dots, to create a timeline, to find some sense. This is too impossible to believe. There has to be a mistake.

“Fuck, Peter,” Lily mutters. She places the _Prophet_ on the round kitchen table and makes the few strides necessary to reach the window and pulls it shut. Glancing back at the paper, she is almost too afraid to pick it up again. Her hands begin to shake as if she was about to head into a confrontation. Maybe she’s wrong or maybe it’s the wine. James didn’t say anything. She forces herself to reread the list and there he is:

_Peter Pettigrew_

In damning black font, there is his name, surrounded by some of the most terrible people Lily could think of. She flicks back to the front page to check the publication date: Eighth January, three days old. Meaning the hearings are this week coming.

She folds up the paper and throws it in the bin with the rest of them. Now she is irritated. The news has brought her down from wherever she was. This is exactly why she doesn’t read the newspaper anymore. The bad news seeps into your thoughts like a poison and tarnishes any happiness you may be feeling. She wasn’t always like this. She used to be an avid reader of the news, preferring to be completely invested rather than simply informed. Until Marlene McKinnon’s name appeared on a list of those who had died. Then there was nothing more really to know. Everything else was just noise and besides, if anything was worth knowing she’d find out through work.

Turning off the lights and walking up the stairs to her bedroom, Lily tries to push away her thoughts about Peter. If there’s been a mistake, James and the others will surely make it right. They’re smart men and well versed in pulling Peter out of trouble. She just doesn’t want to think about that right now. She wants to think about the night just passed and hold onto the warm feeling that glows within her.

The pipes in the wall groan as the couple living upstairs rustle about in their bathroom above Lily’s own. She hears their giggling and discussion about the week ahead, a big one apparently. A sense of loneliness takes grip of her as she prepares for bed. Until now, she’s been alone but not lonely and it’s something she didn’t anticipate when seeing James again. The strength of his absence after being near him has caught her completely off guard.

Lying in bed, Lily feels her head begin to tighten and the headache of cheap wine kick in. A car drives down her street and idles near the front of the house. She listens to the passengers pour onto the street, shouting their goodbyes to whoever remains in the car. The vehicle is loud as it starts to leave and the headlights cast moving shadows onto her walls.

 _Hm, too busy_ , James’s impression of her neighbourhood runs through her mind and it’s the last thing she thinks off before closing her eyes.

* * *

“Hello… Lily.” A hand waves in front of her face, disrupting the view of the dirty Thames. 

“Yes, hello, hi!” Lily turns in her chair to acknowledge her boss, Sofia. Who stands tall in a pastel pink pantsuit. It’s always a pantsuit and it’s never black or grey. 

“How was your Scottish weekend away?” Sofia asks excitedly and takes a seat at her desk which is adjacent to Lily’s.

“It wasn’t too bad, actually,” Lily admits as she watches Sofia’s eyebrows fly up her forehead. It had been a discussion on Friday afternoon, the low potential a trip up north would have in bleak January.

Sofia immediately sets her take away coffee cup down and leans forward in anticipation. “Tell me, it must have been good you were just on another planet. I walked in, hung up my coat and you just stared out that window none the wiser. Where’d you go? Who did you see?”

“I saw Alice,” Lily starts and Sofia smiles sadly.

“How is she?”

“She’s going okay and slowly getting better. I also went to the Three Broomsticks like you suggested.”

“Oh my God, isn’t it so much better now? As long as there’s no students around,” Sofia rolls her eyes.

“Like you were once?” Lily teases and begins to organise her desk for the day.

“Darling, please, I’m turning thirty this year. My Hogwarts days are ancient history,” Sofia looks wistfully out the window before bringing her attention back to Lily. Her blonde hair flying across her face as she does. “See anyone else I would know?”

“No,” Lily lies. “I did see that the Death Eater hearings are this week,” she changes the topic.

Sofia’s face turns dark and she busies herself with her own to-do pile. “Scotland was that good, then?”

“I guess you’ve known about them for a while?” Lily ignores Sofia’s discontent at the change in subject.

“Yes, I have. Which is why I’ve postponed all my Ministry meetings until next week. You’re stuck with me every day, I’m afraid,” Sofia explains and Lily just nods, beginning to feel a little foolish. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. We weren’t allowed to share anything until the _Prophet_ published the dates on Friday. Things are still. . .” Sofia shakes her head solemnly with a sigh.

“I was friends with somebody who is on trial,” Lily says, not even believing what she is saying. “He was with me in the Order and was still a part of it when I left. It’s so strange that no one has said anything.”

“Lily, no one likes talking about these things. Especially when they have a connection to somebody who went bad. Would you want to talk about it?”

“I guess not,” Lily answers, trying to put herself in that situation. She watches Sofia begin to write in her weekly diary, crossing out meetings and scribbling in notes. The conversation is clearly over.

Sofia lost her sister at the beginning of the war and Lily feels a deep connection to her through that. Not only is Sofia the advisor of the wizarding world to the Muggle Prime Minister but also one of Lily’s closest friends. Sofia showed Lily that there were other ways to serve in the war. That it didn’t have to be gallant battles and risking lives. When life returned to normal, they returned to being two twenty-somethings in London. They laugh and cry over Friday afternoon wines. Stumble out of bars at two am, arms linked, rediscovering their freedom. They make fun of all the old men they pass on their way to their pokey little office in a forgotten corner in the Houses of Parliament. And they dare each other to go and speak to the cute guys they’d spot on roof top terraces in the summer.

Which is why Lily now struggles with how hard it is to bring the conversation back to her weekend. Everything Sofia knows about James is from Lily’s storytelling. Which Sofia slowly but surely coaxed out of her. Lily glances at the clock on the wall, nine am. There’s no way she can get to five without sharing her news.

“I saw someone else at Broomsticks,” she rushes, words colliding into each other.

“Oh, thank goodness because this isn’t appropriate for a Monday morning.” Sofia gestures towards her paperwork and leans back in her chair, ready for Lily’s story.

“James.” It feels weird to say his name out loud.

“You tease! Talking about bloody murder trials and all when you have just run into your old love,” Sofia says with sequel.

“He isn’t an old love,” Lily corrects but Sofia smiles and waits. “We just talked about simple stuff, nothing serious. It felt nice to talk to an old friend, that’s all.”

Sofia slowly sips her coffee then puts it down and folds her arms. “Like how you felt when you saw Alice.”

“What? No. Well, I guess. . . Alice was different, I’ve seen her more recently than I’ve seen James.”

“Sure. So, did you go home with him?” Sofia’s eyes widen in suspense.

“Absolutely not,” Lily disappoints her.

“Oh no, is he seeing someone?”

“I don’t think so.”

“All right, when are you going to see him again?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t arrange anything.”

“Lily! Come _on_ , you clearly had a nice time with him.” Sofia almost stands in frustration. “I just don’t get it. This bloke adores you all through school and then you’re Head Students together. Hello, dream romance! But no, Lily isn’t interested –”

“He wasn’t either in the end,” Lily interjects.

“It doesn’t matter because then, years later, after all that, you two sleep together and you ditch him the next day!” Sofia is standing now.

“Marlene died that night,” Lily seethes in disbelief that she has to justify herself.

“I understand that. I really, really do.” Sofia is earnest with her hand on her heart. “But I know you turn down every other guy because they’re not him. Now you’ve walked into the pub, spent time with him and . . . nothing!”

“I don’t turn down every other guy because they’re not James,” Lily argues back and crosses her arms.

“Whatever. Did he give off any hints that maybe he’s still interested?”

“No, he just said that he was happy I was okay and not to be a stranger. Also, who says that _I’m_ still interested?” Lily regrets starting this conversation.

Just in time, there’s an angry knock on their door. Sofia, still standing, walks over and opens it a fraction. “Can we help you, sir?” Her voice is light and airy again.

“Yes, can you please be more considerate of those trying to work in the offices around you,” the short balding man huffs. “What. . . who are you anyway?”

Sofia tilts her head to the side and Lily knows she has a sly smile. “We’re auditors,” Sofia answers calmly and watches the old man forgive her and scurry away. “Fresh blood,” she muses and gently closes the door before turning on her heel to face Lily. “I’m sorry, I overreacted. I just don’t want this beautiful moment of serendipity to pass you by.”

“It’s passed,” Lily assures Sofia firmly and turns back to her paperwork. She should have known better than to mention this to Sofia the romantic.

Lily runs her eyes over the reports in front of her but she doesn’t read a single word. Instead, she performs autopsies on every topic she and James covered last night. Every answer she gave and every word she uttered. What was he thinking that entire time? What did he think when he noticed her keeping tabs on that other lady? Embarrassment kicks her in the stomach. Why didn’t he mention Peter? Why couldn’t she tell him that she wasn’t okay? Not really.

The day drags by and Lily produces nothing of value. She decides to go home early once Sofia leaves for her meeting on Dowling Street. At four o’clock the sun is setting and the wind is picking up. She pushes her way through the crowds the same way she is trying to push through her repetitive thoughts. With determination but not much success. The thick air of the underground causes her to regret her decision to catch the train home but it’s too late to bother turning back now. This happens every time but she never learns her lesson.

Swaying back and forth with the motion of the carriage, Lily notices an attractive guy sitting across from her once the crowd thins out. He’s reading a book about Renaissance architecture and she wonders if he’s studying that at university. In the next minute, she imagines an entire relationship with him. He’d take her to Florence and they’d go see the building on the front of his book. He must feel her stare because he looks up and smiles at her. Lily smiles back and he grabs his bag to presumably put the book away. Rattling to a rough stop, the train arrives at the platform before Lily’s own. She smiles again at Renaissance-boy and quickly slips out the sliding doors before they close. As the train begins to leave, she keeps her head turned away so she doesn’t see him again.

The sun had set whilst she was in the tunnels and Lily pulls her coat tighter around her as she navigates the path home. Avoiding people transitioning from work to gym and couples walking slowly, hand in hand. She pauses in front of a Waitrose and the doors slide open for her. Standing in the superficial light coming from the store, she tries to mentally summon the energy to think of something for dinner. Nothing she thinks of inspires her and she continues walking with her head down. Replaying the only thing that actually does come to her mind right now.

James dropped her onto her bed and they laughed between kisses. Moments before they were in a quaint corner pub, drinking too much and getting closer. It was one of those strange Indian summer days where you feel like you’ve escaped the cold grasp of the impending winter. Everything glows golden, the sunlight, the leaves spinning from the branches above and the grass beneath. They’d been there all afternoon and as the sun began to set, James called that it was time to go. He offered to walk Lily home to her and Marlene’s house a few blocks away and she accepted. They walked the quiet streets like fawns unsteady on their feet but feeling invincible. She had reached for his hand and let her head rest on his arm. At her front steps she asked him to come up. James sobered instantly and so did she. His eyes darkened and jaw clenched. In the warmth of the evening she prayed for him to say yes.

In the real word, Lily’s hand wraps around the cold brass doorknob and she steps into the foyer of the old Georgian house conversion she calls home. She walks in the dark up to her flat and her stomach swoops. The same way it did when James lifted her and carried her to her room.

That day, the sunset streamed through the windows with furniture casting shadows along the floor.

 _How long_ , James had asked once he put her down to stand.

 _Ages_ , Lily answered and held a finger to his lips. He asked no further questions and pressed his forehead against hers. She tilted her face upwards and kissed him. His hands found their place on her cheeks, as if they’d settled there a hundred times before.

She tugged his shirt as she walked backwards and crawled onto her bed. He slipped off her dress and she did the same to his clothes. Wanting to stay in control, she forced him down so she was on top but then his hand was between her legs.

Her own sigh brings Lily to the present where she’s collapsed onto her unmade bed. She feels her lower back arch towards nobody but a memory. If only she could cut the reel and forget the rest. She doesn’t want to remember anything past staying up for hours kissing and just talking with James. But just like time, her mind keeps going.

She was making earl grey tea, watching the sun rise, and he was still in her bedroom. Lily accepted the letter from the owl and struggled to read the messy, hurried writing but it made enough sense. The teapot fell out of her hand and smashed into tiny pieces, porcelain flying to every corner of the kitchen. James ran out to find her on the floor gasping for air. His Order shirt, which she was wearing, started to soak up the earl grey as she watched him read the letter. The colour drained from his face and his hands began to shake. They weren’t invincible.

The rest is a sickening blur. She hated James for trying to calm her down when she raced into Marlene’s room to see if she had come home. She blamed Sirius for not getting to the McKinnon family reunion quicker and for not saving Marlene. She blamed Peter for being so clumsy and hurting himself that night. She hated the moon for keeping Remus away. She hated Frank for not protecting Alice. She hated and blamed herself, most of all, for not knowing and not being there. The guilt of her highest high on the night her best friend lost their life was something Lily thought she’d never recover from.

Mary helped her through the funeral and through moving out of the house. Mary also introduced Lily to Sofia and then Lily lost touch with everyone. On purpose. The idea of trying to continue being herself for everyone else was exhausting and she was already shattered. Her bones hurt from carrying the grief but she wanted to sit with it for a little while longer. She didn’t intend to be out of contact for so long but it just happened. One year later and so much time had passed that she didn’t even know how to re-enter her old life.

Five o’clock. Lily drags her hands down her face. She has to see him again, she won’t sleep tonight if she doesn’t. She has to find that feeling again, that sweet, steady flow of happiness. She lost it today since seeing him last night and she wants it back. Despite the nerves that being around him brings, because there’s still so much to talk about, the happiness constantly lingers below the surface.

Reaching over and jostling open the top drawer of her bedside table, she wishes for the butterflies in her stomach to stop. _Again?_ She scribbles on a scrap piece of paper before rumbling down the stairs to the kitchen window where she last saw her owl.

She’s now back at the Three Broomsticks for the second night in a row and her stomach swoops again as he walks in. She spent all day remembering a slightly younger James and here he is more handsome than in her memory. It is unsurprising, really, that time has favoured him but he is still real. Like the rest of them, the shadows under his eyes still linger from the lack of sleep in the last four years. The shine of invincibility has also worn off. He doesn’t have that Cheshire cat smile tonight either and Lily instantly thinks of Peter. She can’t quite work out how to bring it up and Sofia’s words play in her mind. James reaches her but doesn’t sit. Instead, he leans his hip against the bar and Lily notices he’s wearing a suit under his coat. At eight o’clock, he hasn’t even been home yet. 

“Miss me, Evans?” His voice is quiet but confident. She watches his eyes glance over her, just as she had done to him.

“I really liked that wine last night.” Lily shrugs, still in complete disbelief but delight that he came back as well.

“And you can’t get that stock standard wine in London?” James asks, unamused.

“I think it’s house, so no. Sit down,” Lily says as she reaches for a wine menu. She catches a glance at the bartender who has been sending her filthy looks over the past half hour for not ordering anything. Her aim was to look like she just got there. James takes the menu out of her hand and puts it back behind the bar.

“I have something better at home,” he says and holds out his hand for Lily to take.

She doesn’t move, unsure she can trust herself. This isn’t what she had expected.

“Just for a couple of drinks,” James assures her. Their eyes catch each other and a silent knowing passes between them; _you thought about me all day, too._

She places her hand in his and is highly sensitive to how his skin feels on hers. He squeezes her lightly on their way out of the pub and she realises that no one has held her hand for over a year. In fact, the last person to hold her hand was James at the funeral. She had quickly dropped it, turned to leave and never looked back. Tonight, she tightens her grip ever so slightly.

James’s house is instantly recognisable. Lily has been here once before when he hosted an end of school party. He’s let go of her hand but they walk side by side in the moonlight towards the front door. She chides herself for thinking it but she imagines, for just a moment, that she lives here too and they’re coming home together. Reaching the entrance, waiting for James to open the door, a dog barking in the distance, she’d know who it belonged to. Maybe this could have been her reality if she had stayed. The strange thing is, is that her imagination is happening in real time, only when she goes inside she won’t go to their bedroom to get ready for bed. She doesn’t know what will happen.

They step into the main hall and she feels the warmth envelope her cold body. Everything in the entrance is exactly the same as his parents had it, which Lily finds incredibly comforting. The woods are dark and the colours are rich. The high ceilings leave plenty of wall space for all the paintings and family photographs. To one side of the entry is a sitting room with untouched armchairs. To the other is what Lily remembers to be James’s father’s old office. The door is open, showing an empty mahogany desk and three walls of faded books collecting dust.

James pauses at the bottom of the stairs and Lily spins in her tights to face him. She instantly notices that he is more relaxed now he is home. He reaches out to tuck her hair behind her ear and there it is, the disarming gentleness of James Potter. Lily wonders if he felt this way last night when she fixed his collar, unexpectedly captivated.

“Sorry,” he says, dropping his hand to his side. “That’s not how just a couple of drinks should start.”

“It’s fine,” Lily waves off, “really.”

“Right.” James returns to his usual cool demeanour. “I need to go and change, so just continue down the hall into the kitchen and I’ll meet you there.”

He jogs up the stairs and Lily snaps out of her reverie. She wanders into the wide, open room where the kitchen is to her right and a living area to her left. Gravitating towards the fireplace in the living space, she notices a collection of photos on top of the piano in the corner. She immediately redirects herself to inspect. There’s a beautiful photo of James and his parents in the garden. Another of the Potters and Sirius. Then a relatively recent one of Remus, Sirius and James. It doesn’t escape Lily’s attention that Peter isn’t in this photo. She studies Remus and Sirius, they look happy and a complicated feeling of remorse fills her.

Moving along to the next photo, her heart skips a beat at the sight of herself. Gently, she picks up the delicate frame and studies the photo within. She tries to think where her own copy of this photo is but cannot remember. It’s their Gryffindor classmates at the last Quidditch match of their seventh year. Her and James stand side by side in the middle with the girls on her side and the boys on his. They all have their arms wrapped around each other and are laughing. Over and over and over again. At their feet is a jumble of broomsticks and Gryffindor signs.

 _Gryffindor_ , Lily thinks of the word and weight it used to hold. It was all a childish game of colours and motifs. Believing in your house and personifying its values like a religion. It’s all smoke and mirrors in the face of real danger. Which she learned two years after this photo was taken.

“We were a great team,” James says over Lily’s shoulder, startling her.

“You were. I remember you winning that year.” She puts the photo back down amongst the others.

“I meant us, you and me,” James corrects. He gives Lily no time to agree or disagree as he ushers her into the kitchen. “Just take a seat there,” he points at a bar stool tucked under the kitchen island. “Have you eaten?” he asks, pulling a bowl of spaghetti bolognese out from the fridge.

“No,” Lily answers, remembering the cheese she ate standing in front of her fridge before leaving for The Three Broomsticks.

“Perfect. Be right back,” James smiles and leaves the pasta to heat up. Lily watches him disappear around the corner and slides off her stool to help prepare dinner. She approaches the cupboards but stops short of opening them, realising she doesn’t know where anything is. What drawer are the forks in? She doesn’t know. The bowls? No clue. She’d have to open them all. The uncomfortable anxiousness of being in a stranger’s home builds in her stomach. For a moment she felt close to James again, like the time that had passed never happened. Yet now it makes itself known as she couldn’t even make a cup of tea or help prepare dinner in his kitchen. His footsteps are drawing closer so Lily climbs back onto her stool and rakes her fingers through her hair.

James returns and proudly presents a bottle of red wine. Lily can’t hide her smile, her worry waning for now.

“Did you get this before or after my note?” she asks with a smile and begins to pour into the two glasses James provides. Lily silently notes the cupboard in which they came from.

“I’ll never tell,” James says dramatically.

“Funny.” Lily pushes James’s glass to him and they toast. “To both hoping to see each other again.”

“Whatever you say.” James looks her straight in the eye and she feels the subsequent contraction in her lower stomach.

He turns to continue preparing their dinner whilst she sits on her stool sipping wine and swaying her legs back and forth. How can she capture this, she wonders but then an unexpected flash of anger shoots through her. The war stole this from her. It stole everything and now this relationship, her and James, is fragile at best. She can’t even decide what is worse, that she can’t seem to ask about Peter or that James hasn’t voluntarily mentioned him. She digs her fingernails into her palms. These happen, these flashes of anger that strike out of nowhere. Usually it’s because she’s thinking of Marlene but tonight it’s different. Tonight, it’s because she is looking straight at someone she used to know so well. Someone she could have been falling in love with and now there’s distance.

James looks over his shoulder at her and smiles before turning back.

 _I’m still here,_ Lily thinks and calms herself down.

“How was your big day?” she asks. “That was a nice suit you had on.”

“This suddenly feels very domestic,” James muses, cocking his head and avoiding her question. He puts Lily’s dinner in front of her before taking his own seat. With a full mouth, she notices him staring at his bowl before looking back at her with disappointment. “My day didn’t go to plan.”

Lily nods waiting for further explanation but he doesn’t provide it. They eat in silence after that. James doesn’t ask about Lily’s day but she isn’t surprised. She had told him what she does for work last night and he did that thing when someone thinks your job is boring but pretends it must be interesting. This moment right now though is nice. This feels good. The silence isn’t awkward, it’s refreshing and gives her time to think. Like about how she is right next to him, in his house, after over a year apart. How he pushed her hair back and how he is making her want him again with everything he does. He catches her staring at him and smiles curiously.

“What are you thinking about?” James asks. He stands to take their bowls to the sink and refills their glasses.

“Us,” Lily lets the wine talk. She should have had lunch.

James’s smile grows wider. “Sounds interesting, tell me more.”

He makes his way over to the couch in front of the fire. The lights dim in the kitchen as he leaves, letting the fire be the main source of light. Lily follows and decides to stand with her back to the fireplace. She watches James prop his elbow on the arm of the couch and wait for her to continue. Moving her wine glass from one hand to the other, she’s distracted by how much she wants to just curl up beside him. She lifts her gaze up to his face and blushes. He is so visibly admiring her. It’s the look that she thought she glimpsed last night but wasn’t sure. The soft yet beaming eyes and the casual smile. 

“I was just thinking about our history,” Lily makes up before taking more than just a sip of wine. James copies her.

“There’s a lot of it,” he says gently.

“God, we got up to some shit,” she laughs. “Remember when we apparated out of Hogsmeade and went out in London?” James smiles at her and nods. With the heat from the fire becoming too much, Lily finally sits down next to him. “Then a few years later when we were grouped with Sirius and Marlene. . .” Her own smile falters and she looks to him, unsure if she can continue.

It’s one thing to remember these stories in her mind but to say them out loud is something entirely different. James’s calm expression remains unchanged. He reaches over to place his wine glass on the side table and shuffles back, creating space in front of himself on the couch. Lily places her glass down on the coffee table and the wine streaming through her persuades her to lay down. She moves and lets herself unashamedly curl up in front of him. They are side by side once again with only centimetres between them.

“I remember that night, too,” James seems to instantly know what story she was about to recount. He speaks as though their positioning and proximity is completely normal. As if they did this every night. “Marlene didn’t want to go and sit in the bushes for hours. So, Sirius decided we go pay his family a visit.”

James chuckles and Lily’s eyes open wide at his touch. She can tell he isn’t even thinking about how he now is tracing his fingers up and down her arm. How he is making her skin tingle at the sweep of his. This isn’t how just a couple of drinks should be going either but she isn’t going to stop him.

“Finally,” James continues, “we arrived at the Black’s, got inside the house and then, lo and behold, no one is there. Except Kreacher. Between him and Sirius screaming at each other, the portraits screaming at you and Marlene disappearing. I really thought maybe we wouldn’t get out alive.”

“I don’t think my hearing was ever the same after that,” Lily chimes in.

“Neither,” James agrees. He pauses both the story and the tracing for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. Lily watches the fire through her wine glass, on which her fingerprints are scattered around. Proof of her ever being here.

“Keep going,” she whispers and James resumes his tracing and the story. She can practically hear his smile.

“After less than two minutes, surely, Marlene reappeared. She stunned Kreacher and herded us all out. Once we were back home Sirius was fuming. I can’t even remember why he wanted to go there but we didn’t achieve whatever it was. Then, Marlene pulled a bloody crate of champagne and whisky from her bag. And she had that Marlene grin on her face and declared it wasn’t a total waste. Which, all in all, satisfied Sirius.”

“So stupid,” Lily concludes.

“Yes, very,” James stifles a laugh. “But it was fun. In hindsight,” he adds. 

The fire starts to diminish in front of them and the light fades away with it. James now rests his hand on her arm and rubs his thumb against her skin. The small amount of space between them is maintained but Lily knows they’ve well and truly crossed a line. As her eyes grow heavy, she wonders if her and James are falling back to where they were faster than she’s ever fallen asleep since.

“James?” she speaks softly, hoping this isn’t a misstep.

“Hmm?” he hums sleepily into her hair.

“Why aren’t you saying anything about Peter?” Lily dares and holds her breath. She feels his body tense behind her and his deep sigh does nothing to help it.

“Not tonight, Lily” he says, shutting down the conversation. A feeling of dread washes over her. Perhaps it isn’t a mistake, perhaps Peter did do something terribly wrong.

“I’m sorry,” she offers, imagining what must be going through James’s mind.

“Me too,” James replies but it’s barely audible.

She feels his lips press against the top of her head and her back arches into him before she can control herself. She squeezes her eyes shut with regret and hopes he doesn’t acknowledge it. He does and pulls her shoulder gently so she’s lying on her back, blush revealed.

“Hi,” she breaths, looking up at him. They’re so close, she notices his faint smile lines and reacquaints herself with the gold flecks in his eyes.

“Hi,” he smiles back.

“I thought this was supposed to be just a couple of drinks?” reminds Lily as she watches him take in every inch of her face. She knows this look.

James hangs his head causing the tips of his hair to touch Lily’s forehead. “You’re right,” he concedes. 

“I think I better go,” she whispers despite every part of her wanting stay close to him. He’s trying to do some quick thinking, she can tell from crease between his eyebrows. His argument doesn’t come quick enough though and he sits up which allows her to do the same.

“Another big day tomorrow?” Lily asks, pushing herself off the couch to stand and create some distance between them.

“Yeah,” James answers, removing his glasses to rub his eyes.

“Drinks afterwards?” she suggests.

“I can’t tomorrow night. I’ll be with Sirius and Remus.”

She knows she doesn’t have the right to feel it but disappointment floods her. “Of course. Well, let me know if you want to. . .” 

“Want to what?” James snaps out of his tiredness.

 _Shit_ , Lily runs a hand through her hair. Meet up for a drink? Have dinner again? Kiss until the fire goes out? Make her whole body scream for him? Give her the satisfaction of making him weak?

“Spend time together,” Lily answers and makes her exit for the front door. With his hands in his pockets again, James slowly shuffles after her and leans against the opening to the sitting room.

“Thanks for sending that note,” he says and Lily looks up from sliding her heels on. She stands and the height difference between them is almost closed.

“Thanks for dinner,” she counters. There’s a pause, perhaps he is waiting to see what she will do. Step towards him, the door, the stairs. Each option leading to a different ending to the night. She doesn’t move but instead smiles as if some inside joke has passed between them. He got it, too. “Good night, James.”

“Good night, Lily,” he opens the door for her and she doesn’t look back.

* * *

Lily wakes still feeling James’s fingers tracing over her skin. She imitates it with her own as she lays in bed, happy. She showers and dresses for work. Pausing every so often to watch the sunrise over the rooftops. Soon the rain will come but for now a glorious London sunrise is on show. Running slightly early, she takes the time to pick up a coffee for both Sofia and herself. After over-thanking the barista, she turns on her heel and heads straight to the office. Sofia is already there, writing excessively and doesn’t look up until Lily puts coffee in front of her.

“Darling, thank you,” Sofia takes a sip immediately, tarnishing the white lid with her pink lipstick. “We have a rather big day. Keep your coat on because we’re going to the Ministry.”

“Oh, I thought you wanted to stay away from there this week?” Lily feels her happiness begin to make way for concern.

“I did but the bastards aren’t keeping me updated. The PM wants to know the names of those convicted and I’ve received nothing. So, due to someone’s incompetency, we need to go and get the list ourselves.”

“You don’t think it’s better that I stay here and get through some things?” Lily doesn’t want to go, not at all.

“No, you’re coming. Like old times,” Sofia gives Lily no choice. Old times means war times. Travel in pairs and never alone.

They’re in the foyer of the Ministry within seconds. Sofia straightens out her pantsuit and Lily admires the atrium. She has only had to come here twice since the war ended. Those were two days she prayed not to see James or anyone else she knew. Today is no exception, she isn’t ready to see him outside of their private bubble. Outside of candlelight and firesides. 

“Okay, let’s go,” Sofia instructs and they’re off. Lily chases behind her and already sympathises whoever didn’t send Sofia the information. The woman is on a war path. It doesn’t take long to register the mood in the atrium. People are moving fast with their heads down. No one is smiling, no one is making eye contact and no one is stopping to talk. It reminds Lily of darker days.

“Interesting,” Sofia says under her breath but Lily hears it. There’s no further elaboration on whatever is interesting as Sofia powers ahead with Lily on her heels. “Lily, quick,” she turns to instruct. They begin running towards the elevators and Sofia reaches back to grab Lily’s wrist and pulls her into the small space before the doors slam shut.

Lily rubs her wrist and opens her mouth to begin a tirade on her boss but she is cut off.

“Kingsley,” Sofia addresses the only other person in the elevator with them. He seems younger than Lily and she tries to remember if she knows him. Either way, he definitely knows Sofia.

“I know what you want,” he says, “and I don’t have it. The interns will send it to you later like we agreed. Be nice to them.”

“What is going on?” Sofia asks impatiently. “The PM is requesting the names. He knows the hearings started yesterday and I haven’t heard anything from anyone.”

“We haven’t met properly,” Kingsley says and holds his hand out to Lily, “Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

“Lily Evans,” Lily shakes his hand with a polite smile. 

“You don’t have your list because they’re not over. No information will be released until everything is done,” Kingsley answers tersely, turning back to Sofia. “I’m sure you’ll have what you need by the end of the day,” he assures her. Meanwhile, Lily blinks at the familiar names written in cursive writing on the front of Kingsley’s folder.

_P. Pettigrew / McKinnon Family_

Her heart beats dangerously in her chest and a sickening horror pools in her stomach. The elevator chimes and the doors open to a long dimly lit corridor. Men and women in suits and capes all rush towards a large set of doors half way down. Their collective whispers fill the space. Kingsley steps out with Sofia and Lily following.

“You must excuse me, ladies, I really have to go,” Kingsley bows his head. “See you at Emmeline’s for Sunday roast, Sof.”

“Thank you, Kingsley.” Sofia waves with disappointment as they watch him run down the corridor to join the thinning crowd. She turns and presses the button to call the elevator back. “I’m sorry, Lily. I dragged you up here for nothing. Lily?”

“I need to see something.” Lily doesn’t know how she does it but she puts one foot in front of the other and follows Kingsley. She is almost there when the doors slam shut with the last of the crowd disappearing inside. Sofia is behind her but far enough that Lily reaches for the silver handle and slips in before Sofia can stop her. The room is dark except the small podium on which there is an empty chair. In the back-row Lily spots a few spare seats but she would have to squeeze past two men to get to them. She quickly calculates that the risk isn’t worth it and decides to stand in the darkness along the back wall. Sofia slips in soon after Lily but less successfully.

“Ms. Squire, please take a seat we are already running late.”

“Yes, Mr. Crouch. My apologies,” Sofia rushes and awkwardly bows unnecessarily. She manages to snatch Lily’s hand and brings her out from the darkness. Everybody in the back of the room turns to watch them and Lily feels her cheeks burn. Time seems to stop as they walk past five rows of seating to take up two spare seats on the edge. Sofia stares daggers at Lily for a mere second before restoring her composure.

“Today we continue the hearing of Peter Pettigrew and his involvement in the murders of the McKinnon family,” Crouch announces and Peter is brought into the courtroom. Lily cannot believe what she is seeing. It cannot be real, this man sweating and shaking feverishly cannot be Peter but it is. The images that she made up of Marlene being killed play in her mind but this time it is Peter at the other end of the wand. Sofia reaches to hold her hand but it doesn’t bring any comfort.

“James! You can’t believe it, you – you can’t believe this! I was with Sirius!” Peter sputters. Lily searches for James in crowd but she can’t spot him.

“It is peculiar how you beg to one of the people who uncovered your crime,” says Crouch without an ounce of sympathy in his voice. Lily can barely hear over the thudding in her ears. Her hand covers her open mouth. How could James have not told her? How could he have found this out and not come straight to her?

“To summarise yesterday’s hearing, the accusation, Pettigrew, is that you willingly shared information about the McKinnon family reunion with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This information was shared with the intent of assisting with a planned ambush on the McKinnon’s. Convicted Death Eater, Travers, has also confirmed your involvement with this plot. Today we will conclude this hearing with your sentence. Moody, you have one last question?”

 _“You should have been there sooner!”_ Lily remembers pushing Sirius.

_“Peter had cut himself whilst attempting some spell and couldn’t stop the bleeding, Lily. I got there as quick as I could.”_

“Who else was involved, Pettigrew?” Moody spits. Both he and James are now standing.

“James! James, my best friend!” Peter ignores Moody’s question and his terror brings Lily back to the room. She looks up to see Peter reach out to James who doesn’t flinch. The look of betrayal on his face is one Lily has never seen before but perhaps it is exactly what shows on her own right now. Towards both Peter and James. “Please, I had no choice. He gave me no choice. How can you do this to me? How can you send your friend to Azkaban?” Peter pleads.

“You’re not a friend anymore. From the moment you decided to give away the McKinnon’s you stopped being anything to any of us,” James speaks in disdain.

“Remus! Please!” Peter moves on from James and Remus laughs wickedly. If Lily didn’t see him through the crowd she wouldn’t have believed it was him.

“Just send him off, Crouch!” Lily hears Sirius call out.

Peter begins to scan the rows of people and his beady eyes stop in Lily’s direction. She tries to slide down in her chair so he doesn’t see her but it’s no use.

“Lily!” he shouts and everyone turns to face her, including James and Moody. She closes her eyes on her exhale and tries to wake up from this nightmare. When she opens them again she is looking straight at James and he breaks character. Confidence is replaced with confusion and then concern which angers Lily beyond measure. Only she has the right to be confused. Twelve hours ago, they were sitting in his kitchen sharing dinner. Fast forward and they were on his couch and he was talking about Marlene. Not once mentioning this.

“Lily,” Peter repeats and she wants to die. “I would _never_ hurt Marlene. I thought she would have been quick enough to get out. I thought she was quicker.”

“Stop speaking to her!” James demands, bringing all eyes back on him, including Peter’s. “Just get on with it, Crouch. He can’t even help himself by telling us more names.”

The elderly man beside Lily asks if she’s all right and she nods. She feels Sofia squeeze her hand but she can’t muster the strength to squeeze back. Crouch speaks and the room erupts into chaos. Everybody stands to witness justice for the beloved McKinnon family. Lily loses sight of James as the men and women around her raise their voices and clench their fists. Between the crowd, she glimpses Peter being taken away. He is white as paper and tears mixed with sweat run down his face. Then he is gone and in the moment in which Lily sees Peter’s back for the last time, a million questions rise in her mind for him. She flinches at the sound of Crouch’s gavel blasting through the room demanding order.

Without thinking, Lily pushes past Sofia and escapes down the aisle as Crouch slams his gavel again for silence. Before the door even closes behind her she’s well down the corridor. It isn’t long until she’s in the atrium with her coat flowing behind her and her heels echoing in the silence. She wipes away the tears from her cheeks and does all she can to keep the scream inside of her. 

Steps away from her exit, Lily pauses abruptly. Shaking with fury, she turns back towards the elevator. She doesn’t even know if it’s still in the same place but she’s willing to risk it. Only once has she been to this part of the Ministry and she had seen his name engraved on a small gold plaque on a door. Lucky for her, all the Aurors are still in the courtroom. This makes it easy to walk their hallowed hallways. It makes it too simple to unlock James Potter’s office, remove her coat, pour herself a glass of whisky, take his seat behind his desk and wait. Lily studies the small room while she throws back the brown liquor. The wall behind her is a library of defence books. The wooden furniture is dark like James’s home and the light coming through the narrow window is minimal due to the rain but maybe on a sunny day it’s better. Worst of all, though, is that the room smells like him. She purposely leaves the top off the crystal decanter to add whisky to the mix after her next pour. 

“Fuck you, James Potter,” Lily raises her second glass in front of her. The top drawer of the desk catches her eye with the decorative end of a key jutting out from the lock. Organisation was never James’s forte and still clearly isn’t. Lily sifts through the few notebooks and discarded loyalty cards for café’s, where there’s no more than one or two punch holes in each card. Nothing exciting. Next drawer. More paper carelessly shoved away but this time Marlene’s name screams out at her. Lily throws back her third glass and pulls a face. She doesn’t pour another. Instead, she pours over the pages of James’s slanted handwriting, detailing how Peter was an accomplice to the murder of her best friend. It’s not long before the dead silence of the room is broken. She puts the papers down as soon as she hears the rushed footsteps coming down the hallway, arrival imminent. Lily listens carefully as they grow louder and she stands to brace for impact.

The door is opened and slammed shut. James storms in but doesn’t say anything nor does he seem surprised by her presence. Instead, he roughly takes off his suit jacket and throws it over the chair on his side of the desk.

“What were you doing in there, Lily?” James asks with an undercurrent of danger in his voice. He rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt to his elbows but never takes his eyes off of her.

“Were you ever going to tell me that Peter sold the McKinnon’s to _him_?” Lily seethes, skipping to her own question.

“Yes, and it wasn’t going to be as bloody brutal as that.” James points back in the general direction of the courtroom.

“Then why didn’t you tell me at the pub or last night when I asked?” She tries to calm her heart which is running a marathon in her chest.

“Why?” James throws her a bewildered look. “Because you couldn’t talk about Marlene. You couldn’t even allude to that night. How on earth, were we supposed to talk about Peter? You said yourself, that you leave once Marlene is mentioned and I didn’t want you to leave.” The drop of vulnerability throws Lily off course.

“I never wanted to leave,” she mutters but shakes the idea of premature forgiveness out of her mind. “You should have found me earlier and let me know what was happening.”

James scoffs bitterly at this. “Alternatively, you should have stayed in touch.” He immediately becomes defensive. This is where the dust hasn’t settled. Maybe he’s accepted Peter’s treason but not Lily’s disappearing act. “Do you think any of this was easy? The cost of it all was losing another friend. And you wish I had turned up on your doorstep to boast about that?” James shakes his head with amazement. “Also, let me confirm something, you didn’t even know about Peter’s hearing that night we were at Broomsticks, did you?”

Lily purses her lips and crosses her arms, standing as if this were her office. “No, I didn’t,” she admits.

“I didn’t think so,” James sneers, “but it was in the _Prophet_ two days before that.”

Lily feels her body temperature rise. She came here to be upset with him, not the other way around. “I don’t read the freaking newspaper, okay? I only read it by chance after coming home on Sunday night. That’s when I learned of Peter’s hearing but there was nothing about the McKinnon’s in there. If you had sent me a letter – and I know, I didn’t reply in the past. But if you had sent me a letter and told me what was happening, I would have come.”

“And if you had sent me a letter to ask what’s been happening in general, I would have told you,” James hits back. “Don’t come back into my life and blame me for you not being informed. You didn’t want contact and that’s what you got.”

Lily is stunned into silence. Her words constricted in her throat. James is waiting but she can’t produce anything besides heavy breaths. She sees his eyes flicker down at the desk for the first time and he must recognise his notes laid out. He walks closer and picks up a page so he can read it. Lily suddenly becomes very aware that she should be on his side of the desk and he on hers. She stands in the discomfort of this and waits. James hands the page to her and places the lid back on the decanter before lifting his gaze to meet hers.

“I really hope todays outcome helps you heal from the pain. Which you so evidently still carry around.” James’s voice is much calmer but Lily doesn’t relax. “Stay and read as much as you need to.” He grabs his jacket and leaves, closing the door more gently behind him this time.

Lily collapses back into James’s chair and throws the page on the desk. It skims the surface and floats onto the floor instead.

“I hope you die out there, Peter,” Lily says out loud with so much hate that she doesn’t recognise her own voice. She pulls the chair in closer to the desk so she can fold her arms on it and bury her head. Then she cries. The cry when your body is screaming but nothing is coming out. When your eyes can’t squeeze any tighter shut. When all you want to do is speak to the one person you can’t speak to. She wants her best friend back. She wants her life back. They were so close. So close to the end of the war. If it had ended five months earlier, Marlene would have made it and she would still be here. Lily wouldn’t be alone and maybe her and James would have made it, too. She wipes her face on her blouse and continues until there are no more tears. The trembling stops and breathing comes back slowly but her eyes stay shut.

“It _was_ a lot of information for one day.” The deep voice wakes her and through blurred vision she sees somebody sitting across from her. Lily pushes herself to sit up properly and her body screams in pain from her sleeping position. She’s too tired to react or to feel the guilt she expected to feel so deeply when she saw Sirius Black again.

“Sirius,” she says and rubs her eyes, checking her fingertips for mascara.

“Lily,” he gives a small smile, “you’re still here.” Sirius gestures around the room.

She doesn’t know what to say so she begins to stack the paper on the desk. Sirius reaches down to collect the page on the floor. “Thanks,” Lily mumbles and puts the pile back in the drawer. “What time is it?”

“Six,” Sirius answers with no real concern.

“Shouldn’t you be out with James and Remus? He mentioned. . .” Lily trails off. She feels disorientated and in pain.

“We made it a lunch thing and I guess I drew the short straw to make sure you got home.” Sirius winks and reaches over to grab the decanter of whisky.

“Yes, well, not the first time.” Lily watches Sirius smell the brown liquor.

“Certainly not,” Sirius says. “Did you have some?” He holds up the bottle and inspects how much is left.

“Maybe a glass or two.”

Sirius smiles smugly and grabs the crystal glass Lily had used. He helps himself to a short pour and sips half of it. “Yep, that’s one of them. Bastard.”

“One of what?” Lily is thankful for this distraction as she tries to rehearse rebuttals in her mind for all the different accusations that Sirius could be working up to.

“One of the whisky’s we stole from my dear mother’s kitchen. I had one left and it disappeared. I’ll be taking this back.” Sirius finishes the glass and moves the decanter from the desk to the floor next to the leg of his chair. “James was so pissed at me once you girls left,” Sirius laughs and Lily is well and truly lost as to what is going on. “He could’ve killed me for taking you there. Said I should have known what was going to happen. As if a Muggleborn had ever set foot in there before! I had no idea. The profanity. . .” Sirius continues to laugh but it soon dies out and his features express something just short of pity. “Are you okay?”

“Why aren’t you angry?” Lily has to ask. The Sirius in front of her cannot possibly be the one from the courtroom earlier today.

“I could have killed him, Lily.” Sirius catches her gaze and holds it. “I could’ve killed him. Peter fooled me that night and I’ll always be angry about that. But today was a slice of justice, I suppose. Even if I didn’t get to serve it myself.” 

“James didn’t tell me what Peter did,” Lily says the only thing that’s on her mind.

“I know.”

“I’ve been blindsided,” Lily makes a tight fist in her lap, digging her nails into her palm.

“Well, that’s not entirely true. You weren’t supposed to be in that room today.” Sirius raises his eyebrows at her as if scolding a child. “If you been blindsided, it’s by Peter not James.” He considers her for a moment, his head slightly tilted to the right.

“What?” Lily asks with impatience. She holds her tongue on everything else she wants to say.

“Has it crossed your mind, that Marlene’s death is something that happened to Marlene and not you? And James has been trying to find _you_ closure for the last six months so that you can live properly again. Rather than as if it were yourself who died that night.”

Lily stares at Sirius’s grey eyes and hears him more clearly than she’s heard anyone else in the past year. It feels like her mind has stopped thinking and preparing and conjuring stories for the first time. She drops her head and stares at her fingertips pressing into James’s desk.

“Time to go home?” Sirius suggests.

Lily nods with words having escaped her for a second time in that office. Sirius rounds the desk to help her get up and put her coat on. She stands still and stares blankly at James’s books as Sirius jogs to get his whisky. He comes back to her side and apparates with her to the front steps of her building. The rain drizzles around them and glistens under the streetlight. Lily turns to Sirius, confused.

“We’ve always known where you live,” he answers her unspoken question. “Mary told us when you first moved here.”

“No one ever came,” the words slip out before she can stop them. The truth is, she is incredibly glad no one ever came.

Sirius seems to know this and gives Lily a knowing look to show it. “See you around, Evans.”

Before Lily can thank him, he’s gone and she’s left standing in the rain. One step at a time, she reaches her front door. She kicks off her heels once inside and makes her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. She glances at the _Prophet_ on the floor, the headline declares justice for all as the hearings come to an end. Lily leaves it there and drags herself to the bathroom where she washes her face before staring in the mirror.

“I miss you so much,” she says, then takes herself to bed.

* * *

She feels Sofia watching her with intensity. The only scratching of a pen on paper is coming from Lily, whilst her boss sits there at a loss. She’s offered Lily multiple cups of tea and even lunch time wines over the past two days. But Lily wants none of it.

“Do you want to come to Sunday lunch with me this weekend?” Sofia offers. “You don’t have to be on your own.”

Lily finally puts her pen down and clears her desk for the weekend. “No, thank you,” she says with a small smile. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

She apparates to a narrow laneway close to her home and walks out into the street. The sun has just set and the lamps in the park turn on in front of her. When she was young she used to make a wish when she witnessed the lights turning on, as if it were lucky. She crosses the road and walks through the gap in the black fence which runs down the side of the park. In a few months it will be impossible to get a spare bench but tonight it’s easy. Lily pulls on her gloves and takes a seat as far away from a light as possible.

It has sunk in a little deeper now. Peter Pettigrew, their friend, their traitor. It doesn’t hit her like a surprise at random moments in the day or night anymore. The sting of feeling like she was hearing it for the first time has softened and so has she.

 _I really hope todays outcome eventually helps you heal from the pain._

Maybe it actually has. There are still gaps in the story, though. Gaps that only one person can fill in for her. The last three days have been a running debate in her mind of arguments for and against James’s actions. He followed through with convicting his friend, for which she is thankful. He didn’t tell her he was doing it, for which she is upset but she cannot change. Lily sighs deeply, her breath visible in front of her. She cannot change what has happened and for the first time she feels a desperate desire to let go. To let it all vanish into the night air, the same way the smoke from the chimneys nearby drifts away with the breeze.

A couple walk towards her in a hurry, arms linked and huddled together. The woman smiles politely at Lily and she recognises them, the couple from upstairs. Their big week finally over. They’ll go home now and open whatever is in the brown bag the man is carrying. Lily watches them turn towards their house and disappear in each other’s assured company. Her gaze drops to the empty half of the bench and she thinks of James. She remembers when she realised she felt something for him. Something that was more than a schoolgirl crush. She had had those for him too, every now and then, but this was different.

The boys had helped Marlene and Lily move into a cottage that Marlene’s great aunt owned and was sitting empty. James and Lily were in her new bedroom. She was unpacking her clothes into the wardrobe he had just set up. Meanwhile, he sat in an armchair at her desk under the window, inspecting photos Lily had yet to organise. She turned to face him after hanging up a dress and her heart skipped. With sunlight dappled on his face, James was smiling fondly at a photo. He was in his own world, completely unaware of the effect he was having on her. She watched as he put that photo down and instantly laughed at the next one in the pile. Her stomach contracted at the sound. Lily wanted nothing more than to pause time in that moment of contentment. That moment of just them with no one else around, enjoying their own company without needing to talk. She imagined how it would be if she closed the space between them and placed her lips on his. Instead, she grabbed the next item of clothing on her bed and quickly turned to hang it up. Blushing into the wardrobe, she listened as he shuffled through some more of her photos.

“Can I keep this one?” he asked, his voice so casual in that life altering moment.

“Sure.” Lily didn’t turn around to see what one it was. _It’s you_ , she thought, _it’s going to be you._

“Are you all right?” She heard him stand and begin to walk towards her.

“’Course,” she replied and shut the wardrobe door. “Let’s go find the others.”

The siren of an ambulance passing by brings Lily back to the cold present. She pushes herself up off the seat and walks in the same direction as the couple from upstairs. As she walks she holds on tightly to the feeling. The one her memory evokes, the feeling of realising you love someone.

Once in her flat she catches sight of herself in the mirror. Her lips are tinged blue and her face a frosty pale. She leans around the corner and peers into the living room as if she were in a stranger’s house. There, in the centre of the wall, is a beautiful fireplace which hasn’t been used all season. Lily envisions the warm glow that would fill this room. She could curl up on the couch and watch television, whatever is on Friday nights. Maybe even order some take out. Not tonight though.

She uses the railing to pull herself up the stairs to her bedroom, where she crouches to pull a dusty box out from under her bed. In the photo album she lifts from the box, a past life smiles and waves back at her. In the first photo, Marlene, with her grin, hugs Lily so tight that they almost fall over. Lily pulls the photo from its sleeve and watches Marlene’s contagious spirit. She wishes for forgiveness from her best friend. For betraying her and not living life to the fullest. For wallowing instead of seeking justice.

Lily puts the photo back and turns the page to see herself and James. One of very few photos in which it is just them. They’re at the Gryffindor table in their seventh year. Most likely at one of their last dinners. In this moment she is so thankful for him. For what he has done for the McKinnon’s. Her smile grows as she studies him. She never noticed it before but James is giving her the same look of admiration he was giving her the other night. That tingle of happiness creeps in.

She puts the photo album down, looks around her room and almost laughs. She’s alive, there’s evidence of it everywhere. Her clothes pile on the chair in the corner. Her perfume which empties a little every day. She’s alive because what she is feeling is so strong it completely consumes her. What could be more proof than the absolute desire to be with someone else. To feel it in the present but to want to sustain it into the future. To see a future at all.

The sound of his impatient sigh breezes through her.

 _Just get on with it, Lily_.

_On with what?_

_Life._

Lily lands on the single lane road that leads to James’s home. From this point, she can see the warm glow from multiple windows and smell the smoke from the chimney. The moon gives off enough light that she can follow the stone fence, that separates the road from the paddocks, towards the house. She walks quickly and is sure her face is flushed by the time she reaches the front gate.

Now that she is across the threshold, her heartbeat rises and her fingers shake. A terrifying realisation dawns upon her, what if he isn’t alone. Lily pauses, her boots crunching the gravel under her as she swivels to look back at the gate. It’s not too late to go home. Upon reflection, she cringes at how little to no thought she actually gave this visit. Ten minutes ago, she was sitting on her bedroom floor. Now, she’s wrapped up in a mismatched coat and scarf over her work clothes standing in front of James’s house.

An outside light turns on and Lily looks over her shoulder at the house and double takes. James is leaning against the frame of the front door with his arms crossed. Looking up at the stars for help, she turns completely so she can continue on towards him. James raises an eyebrow as she approaches but she ignores it. Against his sweatpants, jumper and messy hair, she feels a little better about herself as she stands in front of him on the bottom step.

“You’re so close, why leave now?” Lily really isn’t sure if he’s talking about distance or her finally coming to see him.

“Are you alone?” _Please be alone_ , she prays.

“Not anymore.” 

“Grand,” Lily exhales and steps up onto the small landing. “May I come in, then?”

James says nothing but moves back so she can squeeze past him. Lily sits on a small bench to pull off her muddy boots and watches James disappear towards the kitchen. He is completely impassive and she doesn’t like it. Maybe she left this too late. Maybe she instigated a lack of trust and he thinks she’s gone again. If she could, she would run up to him now and tell him that she’s still here, she isn’t going again. But they need to talk first.

He calls out to ask if she wants a wine and her nerves relax. She answers back that she’d love one. Padding into the kitchen, she finds him leaning over the opposite side of the kitchen island waiting for her. He is watching closely, maybe trying to read her as much as she is him. Her wine is poured and waiting for her on her side of the island. She doesn’t touch it. 

“I have so many questions for you,” Lily repeats what he said to her less than a week ago in a crowded Three Broomsticks.

“Then ask,” James continues the game.

“Should I start from the start or at the end and work backwards?” Lily remembers how he worded it.

“From the start,” James decides. Lily nods in agreeance and takes a seat on same stool she sat on a few nights ago.

“After the funeral. . . after I left, what happened?” she asks and he gives her a look that borders disappointment. _I know it’s not the start but stick with me_ , she thinks.

“The war kept going for another five or six months, as you know. No one really saw each other during that time. You had left but it also felt like everyone had left. There were less of us so we were rarely grouped together. Then it was over and we went on with our lives. I sold the cottage and moved back here,” James summarises.

Lily runs the timeline against her own in her mind. During this time, she was rushing up and down the hallways of Parliament and the Ministry. If she wasn’t there, she was smuggling St. Mungo nurses into Muggle hospitals to treat innocent victims of the violence.

“When did you work out that Peter did what he did?” Lily continues her questions. She pushes her thumbnail into her finger, she’s nervous for this part. James also doesn’t seem too thrilled to be covering this topic on a Friday night.

“Sirius, Remus and Peter would come over and sometimes we’d talk about the shit that had happened. Then, one night, we were talking about the McKinnon’s and Peter wasn’t right. Really not right. I didn’t say anything at the time but the next day I asked Moody if I could be included in that investigation. Peter triggered the idea that there was more there but I don’t think I actually thought or believed it was him.” James runs a hand through his hair and walks over to stand in front of a window. Lily watches him gather his thoughts in silence as both their wines remain untouched.

“One thing led to another,” he continues, “and we had to bring Peter in for questions. I didn’t do it, Moody did but he said it was obvious. I’ll never forget that day. I had hoped right up until that moment that I was wrong.” James laughs bitterly, taking Lily by surprise. “I was actually worried about if Peter would forgive me. What an idiot. We then had to wait until this week for the hearings.” Finally, James turns and makes his way over to Lily. He leans his hip against the marble countertop in front of her. “I was going to tell you once it was all over.”

How would have she felt, she wonders, if and when he did that. She imagines being at home and James turning up on her doorstep but she doesn’t go any further.

“Were you upset that night at The Three Broomsticks because I didn’t know or ask about it?” she asks.

“No,” he says. “I know I used it against you and I have to apologise for that because it was actually a relief. You were in a reality that was so far from what was really going on. So oblivious to something that was taking up my whole life. It was refreshing to live in your world for a few hours.” James surprises her and lifts his hand to push her hair behind her ear. She closes her eyes as he does so, revelling that not all is lost. “So, I have two questions because you didn’t really start from the start.”

“Go on,” Lily says and braces herself.

“Do you have regrets?” he asks and her heart breaks at the concern in his voice.

“I regret that, for some time, I couldn’t separate being with you with what had happened. Which is why I couldn’t reply to your letters or come to see you.” She breathes in deeply. “I’m so sorry, James. God, I am so sorry. I just didn’t know how. . .” Lily looks out the window at the darkness to avoid James’s eyes.

“Lily, it’s fine,” he tries to assure her and hooks his finger under her chin to gently bring her gaze back to him. She finally looks at him and instantly knows what he is after before he even asks. “What I really need to know is –”

“I don’t regret that night. Not at all.” She struggles on the last word as James picks her up without warning and places her on the counter top. Slowly, he pushes her knees apart and steps between her thighs. She rests her forehead on his and entwines her fingers behind his neck. Her heart pounding at the closeness.

“Stay,” James whispers. “Don’t disappear again.” There’s a trace of pleading in his voice which sounds foreign coming from him. Lily can feel her chest rising more rapidly as James moves to place the lightest of kisses along her cheekbone. He runs his hands up her opaque tights, pushing her dress up as he goes. With every centimetre he covers with either his hands or lips her body reacts and she lets her head fall back so he can continue kissing down her neck. “Lily?”

Abruptly, he stops. His hands now on the countertop on either side of her and his body, whilst still very close, is pulled away. Lily sits up straight again, already feeling a pain for him between her legs where his hands were headed. She runs her fingers through his hair and studies him. She see’s comfort, no more lonely nights, no more walking home alone in the cold to an empty house. She see’s somebody who is looking at her as if they may already love her. A future.

“I thought of you so often,” she admits. “I’d dream about the terrible things we saw and I’d wake up reaching out for you next to me.”

James nods ever so slightly and Lily feels like he is meaning to say, _me too_. “Stay and we can try again,” he says in a way that he is confident it will work this time. “Or at least let me kiss you properly because ever since I saw you last weekend, it’s all I’ve thought about.”

He pulls her closer to the edge and she cups his face. He pauses for the briefest moment as if in disbelief, then kisses her. His lips move slowly at first and Lily melts into it. Her whole body giving into him as if to say, _finally_. Without stopping, she grabs his hands and places them back on her thighs. James smiles into the kiss and he pulls her off of the island. Her legs wrap around his waist as he begins to walk out of the kitchen. Lily moves her kisses to his neck while he ascends the stairs and takes her to his bedroom. She’s on his bed and for a brief moment her mind flashes back to the last time they were here. James hooks his fingers over the top of her tights and pulls them off, successfully bringing her attention back to him. She pulls off her dress and he removes his clothes just as quick. Before she has time to think, James is running a hand up her bare leg, brushing over her. Surely feeling that she is more than eager for this.

“When you thought of me, did you think of this?” James whispers into Lily’s ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“Sometimes.” She pretends to be nonchalant but rolls him over so she’s on top and can push herself against him. “And you, when you thought of me?”

“Of course,” James answers and sits up so she is in his lap before continuing to kiss her with urgency.

“Then show me,” Lily requests between kisses. “Show me what you imagined.”

James pulls away with a look of surprise but a mischief returns in his eyes along with a grin. “Pleasure,” he says roughly and he is back on top of her. Their bodies remember everything. Every spot that makes the other crazy and wanting more. They revisit their highest high and it is so much sweeter than she remembers.

Blissfully exhausted, Lily breathes in deeply and James pulls her body closer to his. She can feel his heartbeat against her back and his light breathing tickling her hair. Wrapping her hand around his, Lily tries to stay present and think of nothing else but this moment. She pulls his hand into her chest and he kisses the top of her head. This is contentment. Crackles from the fire nearby and the second hand of a clock further away are the only sounds around them. She squeezes his hand but there’s no response and she notices his breathing has grown deeper and more even behind her.

“Don’t fall asleep,” she whispers after rolling over to face him.

“Why not?” James mumbles and keeps his arm draped over her. “You’re here now.”

“No, I’m getting up.” She pushes the duvet back and makes to roll off of the bed.

“I don’t think so,” James smiles and moves quick to grab her arm to pull her back. She tries to push him away but isn’t successful.

“I’m starving,” she tries to speak and pull away as he traps her between his arms.

“Is that all you’re here for? Dinner?” James asks and kisses her neck. “Rather dramatic,” he says as he moves to her collarbone. 

“A girl has got to eat.” Lily tries to not react to his hand running down the side of her ribs.

“And who’s been cooking for you in the meantime?”

Lily pretends to think about it and grins when James looks up at her when she doesn’t answer.

“Oh, really?” he says with a laugh and tightens his grip on her lower ribs.

“Don’t you dare!” Lily squeals. The sound of her own laugh catches her by surprise. It’s that genuine laughter of delight and out of her control. James moves off of her and the bed, leaving Lily to instantly feel his absence.

“Will a toasted sandwich do?” he asks as he searches for his shirt.

“Yes,” Lily smiles, sitting up. James pulls a jumper out of his drawer and throws it to her. “I’ll be down in a minute,” she says as she pulls it over her head.

She watches James leave and once she hears him going down the stairs she lets herself fall back onto the bed. Is this pure happiness? She has forgotten this feeling of weightlessness. Her eyes close and she basks in the moment. Aftershocks of pleasure are still running through her when James calls out to her from downstairs. Something about her having to make her own sandwich and she smiles. Her eyes open and she stares at the high ceiling for a moment before getting up.

“Thank you,” Lily whispers to no one.


End file.
